


Practical Applications of Radioactive Material

by Argyle



Category: Silver Age Marvel Universe, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Chance Meetings, Humor, M/M, Road Trips, With Great Power Comes...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-29 05:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/316091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Argyle/pseuds/Argyle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a big world, but unusual people are everywhere.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practical Applications of Radioactive Material

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaydeefalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaydeefalls/gifts).



> First appearances -- Sue Storm and the Fantastic Four: 1961; the Hulk, Spider-Man: 1962.

In the whole of Barstow, there was only one place open at three in the morning: Eartha's All-Nite.

But Erik couldn't bring himself to complain. Or not really. The scenery wasn't bad, and the long desert roads had their appeal, even after they were all Erik had seen for most of the day. And if he and Charles were to make it to Los Angeles by morning, they'd little choice but to drive straight through the night.

Charles assured him their next room would more than make up for the lack of one now.

Besides, Erik was used to sleep-deprivation. It was only when Charles, slumped like a warm sack of rutabagas in the passenger seat, started to project a rather delicious wet dream involving Erik and the bonnet of a '57 Aston Martin, that Erik pulled off in front of the diner.

"Mmph." Charles shook himself, blinking blearily up at the sign. "Haven't we just eaten?"

"It's your turn to drive," Erik replied dryly. "You're going to need coffee."

"Let's hope Eartha's brew is better than what Edna was pouring in Flagstaff."

It was.

The interior was also comfortably warm, and clean, and bright. All the surfaces were well-worn, but just as well cared for, and as Erik and Charles swung into the booth they always did -- second on the left by the window, lending every new locale a lived-in familiarity -- an aproned cook came out from behind the counter to rattle off the specials.

Charles nodded, affable: this came naturally to him, almost reflexive, even in the darkest time of night. "Just coffee for now, thank you."

Less than a minute later, he and Erik shared the happy, knowing smile that followed the first sip of a good cup.

Erik even allowed himself to sigh contentedly after the second.

But after the third, his attention was drawn away by the man walking barefoot from the gent's. Distraught was one way to describe him. Devastated was probably more accurate. His jacket and trousers were torn along the seams, and his buttonless shirt hung open down the front. Each article seemed tried and tested by someone much too large, ripped and rent, dragged about in the dirt, and returned. His hair clung to his brow, clumped and damp, as if he'd wet it at the faucet and used his hands to comb it into place.

In short, he looked like he'd been on a two week bender from which he was only just now surfacing.

This was merely supposition. But when Erik met Charles' eye, he nodded in agreement.

"He's very frightened," said Charles. "His surface thoughts are scattered. It's like viewing the world in double-time and upside-down."

Erik's own observations were simple. Physical. There were lacerations up and down either of the man's arms and hands, and his bottom lip was swollen, bruised and faintly bleeding: all of it the obvious sign of a fight. "Violent."

"Yes. But he's hiding something."

"Can't you just look and see?"

"Yes. Well-- I probably oughtn't."

Erik arched a brow. "You aren't curious?"

"It isn't..." Charles shook his head. Then he turned toward the man. "Hello. Is everything all right?"

The man kept walking.

"Impeccable bedside manner you have, Charles. I suppose it's something as simple as a run-in with a herd of javelinas."

Halfway rising from his seat, Charles called after him, "Dr. Banner. Please." Then Charles raised a hand to his temple. "You're among friends."

The man -- Banner -- turned, visibly shaken. "You have no idea." He focused on Erik, his mouth curled in a sneer, and then Erik saw:

 _An explosion--_

 _Light and fire and air. Every atom blasted from his body, then reformed._

 _Anger._

 _Anger unbound._

Through Charles, Erik heard Banner scream, alone in the desert.

Charles continued, eerily unshaken, "I think we have things to talk about, Dr. Banner. We can take you as far as Camp Horn, which I believe is where you're headed?"

"That's two hours behind us," Erik hissed, even as his heart still pounded with the force of the vision. His whole body was taut, ready to move. There was nothing about Banner to trust.

Charles pressed a hand on Erik's shoulder. "He needs us," he said. And then, smiling, "Besides, if there's trouble, I'm sure it isn't something we can't handle."

"I will tell you now," Erik said, looking Banner up and down again, "you _won't_ be keeping him."

***

 _Pop!_

"What was that?"

 _Pop-pop!_

"Hmm? What was what?"

Erik sighed. "Stop it, Charles. You saw her. Please tell me she's the one."

"No," Charles said. He took a sip of his espresso, then folded his hands before him on the cafe table. Summer was almost upon them. Charles' collar lay open, revealing the pale column of his throat. Out of memory or instinct, Erik knew the skin there would be sun-warmed, and taste faintly of salt. It was distracting.

Almost distracting enough to make Erik forget the young woman who was phasing in and out from the bustling city sidewalk.

 _Pop!_

Almost.

"Well?" Erik pressed. "If she isn't--"

"She isn't," Charles agreed. "But she's marvelous, don't you think?"

"But not one of us."

"Come _on_ , Erik! That's hardly the point."

"All right. Her power has applications in espionage. She's also a liability."

"She's the Invisible Girl. One Susan Storm, formerly of Central City, California. She made headlines last year when some sort of green... Monster, for lack of a better term, went on a rampage and frightened a lot of local coeds, and she and a few of her cosmically-endowed comrades brought it to justice. And so, a heroine of some celebrity."

"She seems to take a lot of pleasure in scaring people."

Charles shook his head.

But just then, an elderly banker-type let out a wail and jumped a foot into the air when the Invisible Girl revealed herself in-between his newspaper and his face. She laughed, giddy and bright, before vanishing again.

"All right," Charles admitted. Damn him, but at least he had the good grace to look abashed. " _Some_ pleasure, I'll grant you. But say, if you had that power--"

"You can be sure I wouldn't waste my time with frivolity." Erik drained his cup and motioned for the check. "Let's get out of here."

"Just a moment."

It almost looked like Charles was reaching out to hail a cab: he stretched his arm forward, then tapped the air with his fingertips once, twice.

"Oh!" Quite slowly, from the top of her head downward, Sue Storm phased into opacity. She blinked owlishly at Charles. "How did you--"

"Miss, if you'll pardon the interruption," Charles drawled. "May I have your autograph?"

Of course she relented. Charles dolloped on charm as one would strawberry jam, and it was all Erik could do to stifle what certainly was not the twang of jealousy. When she'd gone again -- fully visible in the crowd, though Erik doubted that would last -- Charles caught Erik's eye, stretching that winning smile into a wolfish grin. "For Alex."

***

He was just a kid. Really, no more than a boy, but bestowed with incredible strength. One moment he was swinging between downtown high-rises with the grace of a Munich gymnast, and the next he was dropping in on a gang of thugs by the docks. Poised. Powerful.

Decidedly outnumbered.

"Erik, I really don't think we should interfere."

"What, and allow our hero to face certain death? That's hardly like you, Charles. I thought you had heart for all freaks of nature, great and small."

Charles frowned. "It's only that to read him-- He _needs_ this."

"To fight?"

"To win."

This, Erik could understand. But when a steel girder dropped from the grip of a harbor crane, the boy -- _Spider-Man_ , as he'd fashioned himself -- was obliviously embroiled in hand-to-hand combat with a couple of heavies, and Erik couldn't stand off. He raised a hand and stopped the thing from falling, then tossed it into the water.

A few of the men looked around, baffled, as the crane operator shouted down at them. Then two turned round and looked directly at Erik and Charles.

"Now you've done it," said Charles. He tugged on Erik's arm. "Let's get out of here, shall we?"

Erik stood his ground. "Go on, Charles. Wave a hand and stop them."

"You know I won't."

"Not even at the risk of bodily harm? Really, where's your competitive spirit?"

"Come _on_." Charles tightened his grip and dragged Erik into a steady trot, off the dock and back into an alley. From there, Erik couldn't see Spider-Man continue the fight, but he could hear it -- metal on metal and flesh on concrete. The kid had style.

A few moments later, the thugs ran past the alley without sparing a glance to where Erik and Charles were pressed against a wall -- and Charles was pressed against Erik.

"That was..." he huffed against Erik's neck, "...rather impressive, my dear."

"Yes?" Erik ran his hands through Charles' hair. "Perhaps I'm in the wrong line of work, hmm? Shall I become a masked hero and get you hard on cue?"

"You'd be rubbish, and you know it."

"I don't know." Erik nipped at Charles' ear, coaxing something like a purr from Charles' throat. Charles rolled his hips forward. Erik's breath hitched, but he managed, "I can be heroic."

"You have stamina, I'll give you that."

When Charles moved a hand over Erik's zip, Erik let his head fall back-- "What?" He eased Charles away, then reached round to the wall. His fingertips came back covered in sticky, white webbing.

Charles frowned. Then he smiled as scientific curiosity got the best of him. "Curiouser and curiouser." He reached out to where a bundle of clothes was slung up on the brickwork. "It appears to be--"

"The one! The only!" came a shout round the corner of the alley. "The toughest! The greatest!"

"Um," said Charles.

"Woah!” came the owner of the shout. "Hi, fellas! Didn't I see you over at the dock? Care to join my growing list of happy customers? No task is too redundant for the Amazing Spider-Man!"

Erik clenched his teeth. "Don't tell me he also has the power to sneak up on telepaths."


End file.
